Poetry

Gone are the Days

The whispers born
At the foot of the Hantana mountain
Are no more heard,
The balmy breeze of Mahaweli
Is no more felt,
When the spring is spent
And the summer is on.

The whispers are sobbing,
Sweetness is melting
In the shrill voice calling.
The breeze is sighing
In the sun scorching
With no more soothing.

Ivan Kiriella

Row your Boat

Boat beneath the rising sun
In the morning
The world feels freshly laundered
Country side takes on the sumptuous colours
Landscape soaked in many colours of green
A scene of rare beauty
An attractive luxury
Hedges and winding lanes
Stitches that hold the country side
The river moves
In silent majesty
Water running deep
In the midst of jabbers and babbles
Well manicured paddy fields
Draping the earth
With green exuberance
It is glorious
People cared to make it
The poet's voice
As ancient as the landscape
Down the rabbit holes
And through the looking glass
The words that endure
Never be taken away
It can only grow
Fresh and vibrant
As the roar of the sea
Drifting down the river
Lingering in the golden gleam
Life, what is it?
But a dream.

Devi Singam

The Eagle

Standing erect on the cliff of a mountain
overlooking the sea,
Stands a stately Eagle
scanning the still waters for prey,
Suddenly there is a rustling
In the waters below,
In a flash the Eagle darts down
Picks up its prey,
And is back again at its perch
To feed its young,
It repeats its trip to and fro,
Until its duty by end of the day is done.

Sr. Mary Bernard R.G.S.

Mortified!

Walking at the mall, full of glee,
smiling at people known to me.
My spirits rose as I went high,
up the escalator along the banister side.
Walking straight, I tried to look smart,
nevertheless, I sensed something not right in my part.
Ignoring people who threw funny looks at me,
I got a rare feeling that my buttocks were free!
A mirror reflected a horrifying scene,
the first thing I did was letting out a scream.
The people around let their jaw drop,
an old woman fainted on the spot.
Then a voice spoke in a shocked tone,
"Goodness gracious her pants are torn!"

Fathima Sajida Naina Marikar

Dilemma

Torn,
Between two clouds of the same sky,
Between two petals of the same flower,
I cannot choose,
The correct path.
Objects fling,
Through the counterpart of death,
I turn and twist,
Which path am I to choose,
I know not dear Lord.

Lakshani Kodituwakku

The Illusion of Rain

Predicted rain;
thundering, lightning,
innocent peasants;
With
glittering eyes and hopes;

blue, stood paddies,
filled
Contented hearts,
Counting dates for yield.

But,
You,
Unexpected rain; mixed tears to flood;
Helpless farmers,
In squeezing poverty.

Wasana Nadeeshani Egodage

The street dog

I have no owner,
No place for shelter.
There's no one to protect,
There's no one to respect...

I can't remember who's my mother,
Is she black or white or any other colour.
I can't remember who's my sister,
I can't remember whether I had a brother..
I really want someone to love,
I'm sick of loneliness now.
Did I have an owner I asked from world,
Did anyone leave me or am I sold....

I want to know who am I,
I'll be happy if I die.
I will die soon in this fog,
No one will cry 'cause I'm a street dog...

D.W. Lilani Anuruddhika

The City of Nuwara Eliya

Breathtaking amazing landscape
Gorgeous green pastures
Soothe my eyes
A range of mountains
Snaky winding roads
Beautiful water falls
Make me wonder
How beautiful is God's Creation
And I was fortunate enough to
See it before I die

Praneetha Perera

'Superstar' Pradeep

'Super star' Pradeep,
For you, my hearty cheers
A fortunate son
Of fortunate parents
A rare son
With many talents
A rare gem of Ratnapura
You are a double healer
You heal the body
With your medicine,
You heal the mind
With your silver tongue,
I have no words
To evaluate you
May you ever be
A scintillating star
In the bright skies
Of medicine and music,
Wish you a happy future!

Malini Hettige

'Senile Decay'

At one time I was young and strong
But now all that strength is gone
It's a stick that helps me stand over
In old age that's what you can expect

Slowly I proceed gazing on these who walk
Without support - yet of old age never talk
But do look at me and know what life is
In course of time your walking too will cease

Do not laugh at me - for you too will grow old
And come to this state - when a stick you'll hold
To hold yourself erect and slowly wend your way
So think of life and till be end be happy and gay

When I do see a child running
I recall how too as a child was playing
I feel sorry that he too would come to this state
No one can alter it - and that's what we call fate

L.E.C. Salgado